


It's Tradition

by Lady Divine (fhartz91)



Series: Hummel Holidays 2015 [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas Decorations, Drabble, Established Relationship, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, New York City, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 19:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5345663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/Lady%20Divine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since it’s Kurt’s first Christmas without his dad, Sebastian agrees to let Kurt do it completely his way this year, including using old decorations that he brought back from Lima. Unfortunately, soothing his heartbroken boyfriend and helping put together a ‘traditional Christmas’, Kurt style, doesn’t turn out to be what Sebastian expected at all.</p><p>Written for the Hummel Holidays prompt ‘lights’ and went kind of all over the place xD</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Tradition

_8:33 a.m._

“I think this is the last of them,” Sebastian says, placing a sixteenth large box out on the floor in the living room. “I can’t believe you drove these in a U-Haul all the way back from Ohio.”

“Carole needed the space in the garage, and I couldn’t just let her donate them all.” Kurt sits back on his heels and sighs. “Thanks again for letting me do Christmas my way this year,” Kurt says, looking at Sebastian over the collection of nostalgia he’s been unpacking. “I know you go all out, but I think a simple Christmas is what I need this year.”

“Well, I know you’ve been homesick” - Sebastian runs a finger through the dust on the top of one of the boxes, trying not to focus on his boyfriend’s infectious melancholy - “this being your first Christmas without your dad and all.”

Kurt stops unpacking and sighs, sinking in to himself at the mention of his father.

“I am going to miss him,” he says sadly. He carefully unwraps a NASCAR ornament, holding up the replica Chevy Pace Car so that the candy apple red paint catches the light. “But, he’s been wanting to take that Beer and BBQ Cruise for as long as I can remember. This was his only opportunity.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian agrees. “I’m still surprised that you were okay with him going on that.”

“Well, you know, Carole’s going to be with him, to keep him on track,” Kurt reasons, “and besides, he’s a grown man. You can only do so much for them, but eventually you have to let them go and have faith that they’ll abide by the rules.”

Sebastian chuckles, shaking his head in amusement at Kurt’s sage assessment. He’s definitely Burt Hummel’s son. Sebastian fiddles with the box he just put down, lifting up a flap to peek at the contents.

“Don’t be shy,” Kurt says, watching Sebastian with a cheerful grin, feeling more in the holiday spirit. “Grab a box. Let’s get this Kurt Hummel Traditional Christmas underway. With the two of us working, we’ll have this place decorated in a few hours.”

Sebastian sits down on the floor next to the nearest box and breaks into it, pulling out strings of metallic garland and foil stars that he’s only seen in pictures…from the ‘70s.

“Uh, did this stuff belong to your folks or something?” Sebastian asks, trying not to dis anything that may have belonged to Kurt’s mother especially.

“Nope,” Kurt says, “it’s all mine. I got most of it at thrift stores and garage sales.”

“Babe, this stuff is seriously retro,” Sebastian says, holding one string of garland up, the puff of tinsel smelling like age’s worth of old dust and tickling his nose.

“I know,” Kurt says, clapping his hands together. “It’s going to be _fantastic_.”

_10:15 a.m._

“Sebastian,” Kurt sings, crossing the room to check on his progress. “What…what are you _doing_?” Kurt screeches to a halt when he sees his boyfriend has pulled up a trash can and is tossing ornaments away.

“What?” Sebastian asks, stunned by Kurt’s reaction. “These are all broken, so I’m throwing them away.”

“These are not _broken,_ you oaf!” Kurt squeals, going through the trash and picking the ornaments back out.

“I don’t know when’s the last time you’ve seen these,” Sebastian says, “but look, that glass one is cracked, that Santa Claus is missing a leg, and…”

“No, no, no,” Kurt says. “They’re not _broken_. They’re _vintage_.”

Sebastian watches Kurt cradle broken glass balls and defective snowmen in his arms, waiting for more of the crazy to appear. When it doesn’t, he feels safe to talk.

“Okay,” Sebastian says, backing slowly away, “so, do we just put these guys back in storage again?”

“No, they go on the tree,” Kurt declares, carrying his armful of misfit ornaments over to his side of the living room and setting them gently with the rest.

“You’re going to put broken ass ornaments on the tree?”

“No,” Kurt replies, offended, “I’m going to put slightly scuffed antique ornaments on the tree.”

“Really?” Sebastian has a hard time believing this isn’t an elaborate prank. Putting broken ornaments on something as important as a Christmas tree? The same Kurt who made Sebastian restring the lights on last year’s tree three times because he claimed the reds and the greens looked too _clustered_.

That just doesn’t sound like the Kurt Hummel he knows.

“Yup,” Kurt insists. “It’s tradition. And besides, they’re not only still very fashionable, they serve a purpose.”

“What purpose do they serve?”

“They tell you which side of the tree faces the wall.”

Sebastian stares in disbelief. Kurt rolls his eyes.

“Fine. If you object to my ornaments, why don’t you grab that box over there” – Kurt points to a random collection of boxes, not efficiently signifying a specific one – “and put up the manger?”

Sebastian laughs, but Kurt looks back at him, straight-faced.

“A manger?” Sebastian asks. “But aren’t you an atheist?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Kurt says, going back to his ornaments. “It’s tradition.”

_12:59 p.m._

Sebastian sits amid a veritable forest of fake foliage, individual branches of varying sizes that Kurt swears, at some point, will become a tree. He reaches into the pile of branches, pricking himself on a metal end, and hisses.

“Tell me again _why_ we’re putting together this dinosaur instead of going out and buying a real tree?” Sebastian asks, even though he knows the answer.

Kurt looks up at him and beams, still full of energy and spirit while Sebastian’s more than ready to call it a day. “Because it’s tradition.”

“Okay, but didn’t they have real trees before they made artificial ones?” Sebastian argues, just to argue. “I mean, wouldn’t it make more sense to buy a _real_ tree for a traditional Christmas?”

Kurt’s beaming smile tightens. “No,” he says simply, and gets back to work on separating the branches piled on his side.

Sebastian sighs. “Babe, this is an eight foot tree.”

Kurt looks up at him and nods impatiently.

“Yup.”

“And you have to put the branches into the trunk one by one.”

“They’re color coded.”

“Eighteen of those are different shades of the color black!” Sebastian exclaims, showing Kurt the aging directions he found in the box. “And I can’t even find _one_ of these!”

Kurt looks at the branches scattered around him, his a little more organized than the mass Sebastian has.

“A-ha!” He pounces on a pile, pulling out a long branch and proudly handing it over. “That’s one,” Kurt says as Sebastian reluctantly takes the branch from his hand. “And there’s plenty more where that came from.”

_3:14 p.m._

Sebastian has spent three hours sticking metal branches into a wooden pole and calling it a tree, and they’re only halfway done. His butt’s numb, his hands hurt, and he can’t see straight.

“Okay, babe,” he says, throwing down the branch in his hand, which refuses to go in to its goddamned hole, “I can’t do this anymore!”

“Alright, alright,” Kurt says, looking around for something else his pouty boyfriend can do. “Ooo! That box by your foot is all the lights. Why don’t you get those untangled and make sure they work?”

“You said this would only take a few hours,” Sebastian groans, looking down at a box the same size as all the large boxes, and apparently chock full of lights.

“Don’t worry,” Kurt says. “We usually kept the lights pretty neat and organized. It should be no big deal to separate them.”

Sebastian picks up the box. It weighs a ton. How does Kurt have this many lights? Exactly how many lights make a _ton_?

“Oh, alright,” Sebastian says, resigning himself to the bedroom to solve the light epidemic, where he can bitch and moan and threaten his boyfriend in peace.

_5:23 p.m._

“Kuuuurt,” Sebastian whines, walking into the living room with a huge hive of Christmas lights stuck to his fingers like a bowling ball, “are these seriously the Christmas lights you expect to use?”

Kurt looks at the conglomeration of lights and smiles.

“Yup,” he says. “They’re my favorites. I’ve had them forever.”

“Kurt,” Sebastian says, talking slowly, praying that Kurt will be willing to bend on this one item, “these lights are from, like, the 90s.”

“Yeah,” Kurt says, “and?”

“There’s seven different strands here.”

Kurt looks at the lights, then at Sebastian, and makes a confused face. “So?”

“So, one light goes out and they all go out.”

“I don’t think I see your point,” Kurt says.

Sebastian storms over to the surge protector by the wall socket and plugs in all seven light strips. Not a single one lights.

“Now, do you understand?” Sebastian huffs.

“I don’t think I do,” Kurt says, and Sebastian growls as if the very life is being sucked out of him.

“In order to get these fucking lights to light, I’m going to have to go through and check each and every bulb, one at a time. The average strand of lights has one hundred bulbs, Kurt. That’s seven hundred lights!”

“I see your point.” Kurt nods, staring at the lights with a thoughtful expression. Then he smiles brightly again. “Well, we’ve got all night. You’d better get started.”

Sebastian watches Kurt go back to rearranging tree branches. He’s only three-quarters of the way done with a tree they started assembling over four hours ago, whistling to himself, happy as a clam, and something inside him snaps.

“That’s it,” Sebastian says, throwing down the tangle of light strings as if he’s spiking a football. He picks his way to where Kurt is stooped over the fake tree trunk, hoists him up, and tosses him over his shoulder.

“What the…” Kurt struggles, dropping his branch at Sebastian’s feet. “What are you doing? Where are you taking me?”

“We’re going to go practice a _new_ tradition,” Sebastian says, heading through their cluttered living room, stomping on a few of the broken light strings along the way out of spite. “It’s going to include a lot of spanking, a lot of sex, and then going out and buying a real tree and lights that work.”

“Sebastian!” Kurt yells.

“I’ll compromise,” he adds. “You can put all the broken ass ornaments on it that you want.”

“Sebastian Smythe! You put me down right n- _ow_!” Kurt yelps when Sebastian’s hand comes down on his rear hard and fast.

“That’s one,” Sebastian says, nudging their bedroom door open. “And there’s plenty more where that came from.”


End file.
